


Long May Your Innocence Reign (Like Shells On the Shore)

by butch_snufkin



Category: Raffles (TV 1977), Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Pining, a bit dialogue heavy i suppose, aj is bi and bunny is gay + nb and they love each other a lot :o), angst. but it's good, it's just sweet and also sad but it ends nicely, it's so good, throw in some discussions of redemption and morality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26996479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butch_snufkin/pseuds/butch_snufkin
Summary: "Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain, For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain. All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air, God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!" - Emily Dickinson
Relationships: Bunny Manders/A. J. Raffles
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Long May Your Innocence Reign (Like Shells On the Shore)

**Author's Note:**

> i started this before i got deep into raffles so my perception of aj and bunny has definitely changed but i just decided to finish it anyway

I'd not yet drunk my fill - only enough so that Raffles' figure, gently illuminated by the fire, was distorted about the edges. He was stretched across the left end of the sofa, partially obscured in a ring of smoke from his Sullivan. He'd lit up not too long ago, and I could still smell hints of his cologne beneath the tobacco. Somehow, with autumn in the nighttime air and sparks crackling in the fireplace, he was even more despicably handsome than usual. As his cold blue gaze was trained firmly on the dancing orange flames, clearly deep in thought, I allowed myself the simple vice of memorizing him: every gentle curl of hair, flutter of eyelashes, and the small, fleeting smile which occasionally crossed his mouth, as if he were hearing jokes that no one else could. To me, he looked nothing like his caricature in the newspapers. What every artist failed to express were, in my opinion, the most important aspects of him. I'd marveled at his quick wit, sharp tongue, and gentle hands. No other person would ever know how he looked after a job well done as he pressed purloined pearls into my pockets. How could anyone else hope to fathom the emotion in his eyes when he'd clasp my hand and call me his dearest, when I hardly understood it myself? 

I inhaled deeply, chasing the scent of him which was rapidly escaping my grasp - but a handful of smoke filled my mouth instead, causing me to hunch over and cough loudly and unattractively. This caused Raffles to glance toward me with an expression of contentment - clearly he was unconcerned about my sudden fit. 

An easy smile melted across his face. "What _are _you looking at?" he wondered aloud, teasing in his voice. I should have known he'd caught me ogling him at some point. Damn.__

____

____

I closed my eyes and shook my head slowly, already feeling what was soon to be a painful headache. "I wasn't looking at anything," I insisted drowsily. 

His bell-chime laugh filled the room, and, as much as I did not want to, I giggled back quietly. Everything about him was infectious. 

"Horrible liar," he murmured, that perplexingly personal smile returning for a moment as he took another puff on his cigarette. 

"'M not," I protested weakly. 

The slight slurring of my words caught his attention. In an instant he'd reached across the space between us and grasped my chin firmly, studying my face. "I think you've had a bit too much, rabbit," he said with some amusement. 

"Now you tell me what you think." I meant to say it casually, like a simple jest, but I mistakenly spoke too sharply to back down. 

Raffles' hand fell away, and a cloud of shame passed over his features before being replaced with his usual flippant callousness, which hurt me no small amount. "O Bunny, Bunny," he sighed. "We aren't going to do this again, are we?" 

I sniffed. "You needn't make me sound like such a burden." 

He grunted in exasperation as he snubbed out his Sullivan. "I've told you before, Bunny: you're my closest friend - my right-hand man, as good as you could be. What must I do to convince you?"

The alcohol had worsened my temper, and I shot back angrily. "What must _I _do to convince you?" I sat my empty glass down on the side-table with a heavy thud. "As soon as I get close to you, you push me back out." Raffles had stood and was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, taking my frustration with stoic thoughtfulness. "What shall it cost me to earn your trust - completely this time?"__

____

____

Raffles stopped in front of me, putting a hand on the armrest just to my right and leaning down until he was close to me. I could not recognize his expression. "For you, my dear Bunny? A kiss."

My face grew absurdly hot - in shock, embarrassment, rage, but betrayal most of all. His words contained multitudes, and too many answers which belonged to questions I did not know, or else feared with every fiber of my being. Finding the courage to even speak through my horror took Herculean strength. "It's no use mocking me," I stuttered through my gritted teeth. "But I see all else has failed you." 

He did not move away from me then, instead hovering just as near. His eyes had never been sharper, and their color was blue as I had ever seen them. "Why should I mock you?" As if it were a perfectly simple question. 

I hung my head. It overwhelmed me to look at him a second longer. "Certainly.." I swallowed thickly and searched for strength. "Certainly you must know by now what my feelings are." 

He straightened up and leaned back against the mantle with his hands deep in his trouser pockets. The absence of him suddenly brought to my awareness how warm his breath had been upon my skin, a trivial treasure I had not noticed in my turmoil. He stared down at the carpet. "Yes, I do know," he admitted, his voice incredibly soft - carrying absolutely no blade, but a strange note which could have been solemn disgust. If I'd really been listening, perhaps I'd notice he sounded a bit apologetic. 

My hands trembled as I placed them over my eyes. I saw with perfect clarity that he was speaking in honesty. He had _known _. "See then? You do mock me," I whispered, as I was unable to do much else. "You may report me or toss me out by my ear or anything else but please, Raffles." I shuddered. "I could endure all, save for your scorn. Allow me the last gift of your silence."__

____

____

"For what reason should I report you?" Raffles said, his tone too casual, entirely too uncaring. It made my heart clench in pain. "Are we not men of crime? How fitting, then, that it should come to this." 

Tears burned against the back of my eyes. "Do _not _," I hissed, hiccuping away a sob, "pass over this as another mere illicit activity. This is me at my barest, A.J. I _am_ this thing, whether I do anything about it or not." I could not bring myself to say what I longed to, that I did not want to acquire his love by means of theft. I refused to demand it, or wait helplessly for it, or beg like a dog. I wanted, as selfish as it was, to be given affection, whether I deserved it or not. "You've no idea.. it's so _lonely_..." The mere admission of that fact - what the world knew nothing of - was the loneliness of the invert. It tore me day and night: a raging hunger which was entirely insatiable. __

_____ _

_____ _

He knelt in front of me and grasped my wrists firmly, pulling them towards him, forcing me to look at him.. I could feel my own heartbeat under his fingers, and I feared for an instant that he would strike me then - can you believe it? My own Raffles, who I heralded as the savior of my pathetic existence. But his eyes held no anger. Rather, they seemed to shine in the low lighting. "I know. Oh, dear Bunny, I do know. You're safe here." He leaned forward and kissed my forehead gently, and there was little I could do in response except weep openly. Really, I wished I could stop. 

He never failed to baffle me. I should have expected it, what with the years I'd spent observing him but drawing no conclusion. "Why do you do this?" I asked, the hesitation in my tone unmatched by the mad fervor with which I clutched at him. 

"Can't guess?" His smile was too charming, and I suddenly understood. The truth, in its own horrible way, was the greatest beauty on the earth. "I had thought I was being so obvious. I should have known those rabbit ears miss even the most brick-like hint."

He so adored teasing me. I wondered from time to time if it wasn't the perfect mask for him to hide behind. But then, with no secrets between us, I did not want to be teased. 

"It was certainly not my own ignorance," I insisted harshly. "How could I have possibly known? What hints should I have seen? There are days, so frequent, when I think you are still a perfect stranger to me."

That chased the grin from his face. I'd seen him solemn on many occasions, but never like this. There seemed to be more at stake now than a few ounces of jewels or even a short stretch in chokey. Once again he was unfamiliar to me. It was chilling. 

He squeezed my hands tightly. "You've been more than patient with me. I doubt I deserved even a bit of your kindness." The sorrow in his eyes made him look years older. "I know I've done little in the way of speaking my mind, so grace this next statement with as much belief as you're able: You are very precious to me, Bunny, more so than any trinket or trophy I could ever hope to lay eyes upon - and infinitely more beautiful."

The sentiment touched me deeply. To be cherished! - even by one who cared for no socializing, who thought little of his own sports, who even lived long enough to speak scorn upon the gaudiest of the jewelries we'd risked our lives for. He would laugh if I had said so, and he would be justified, but still there was much I did not comprehend, and I wavered in my hope. "More so than those deliciously pretty girls you're always toddling about with at parties?" 

"'Tis no more than a sport to me, Bunny. A game - a performance, you might say. You should know by now how I present myself to the public is a mere facade. Men like us can afford no other life than one which requires constant acting." 

I did not know if he alluded to burglary, or another notion entirely. "But why?" I swallowed thickly. "Why do it at all? And do not tell me that people expect a womanizer from a sportsman - I shan't believe you for a moment."

"Perhaps not," he sighed, staring down at where he traced invisible lines across my fingers. "but rumors have run their course about me. It might not be expected of every Gentleman and Player in England, but it is expected of those who have been suspected."

I gasped despite myself. "You weren't arrested?" 

"No. Thankfully not. There was no actual evidence found against me, so there was nothing to be done about it. But the police have not been dissuaded, and Scotland Yard would love nothing more than to see me hard up for gross indecency. I take the opportunity to erase my tracks accordingly."

I was speechless. Never could I have suspected that all along, robbery was not the only reason he moved so carefully, trusted nobody. "I'm sorry," I uttered, not sure what I could possibly say that could carry any weight. 

He smiled, melancholy hanging at the edges of his lips. "Fret not. There are worse fates a man can suffer. I have loved women in the past, but no woman has ever turned my head, nor wielded such power over me as you have."

"Have you loved men?" I found myself asking, though I was unsure why I wanted to know. 

"Yes," he admitted after some hesitation. "Although it frightens me at times."

"Loving men?" I felt uneasy at the amount of information bombarding me.

He shook his head. "Not in and of itself. Reciprocation. Dependence. The suggestion that I could be responsible for the safety of another person. If we were caught, and I escaped but he did not, how could I live with myself? If we were under suspicion, and I could act the part of the disgusted, honorable citizen, and yet he could not, how could I watch as he takes the blame for the both of us? My conscience rarely agrees with the law, as I'm sure you well know by now, but it is a dangerous thing - more dangerous than thievery."

"Is that why you do it, then? Thievery? Because it's just an easier way to get what you want?"

His eyes crinkled at the corners. Obviously it was distressing for him to dwell on it. "Well," he started, then stopped suddenly, and I saw those brilliant eyes fill with tears. A pang of shame shot into my heart - I had gotten above myself. He ducked his head quickly and took a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just can't-" His voice faltered. 

In an act of incredible bravery, I lifted a hand and laid it gently across the back of his neck. "It's alright," I managed. 

Raffles grasped my hand even tighter. "Bunny," he sighed, like a prayer. "I longed for you so desperately, I thought my flesh would waste away entirely. But I would not presume to ask you - to beg you - to be my own, to befoul you like I have befouled my own soul. I am a man beyond redemption, but your own innocence could buoy you to Heaven if you wished."

"Heaven could not be so divine if my A.J. was not there beside me," I insisted. "If I must follow you to Hell, and share in your torment only to be close to you, then may we be punished."

"May we," he breathed, and touched his lips gently to mine. 

**Author's Note:**

> more raffles fics are coming heh. sorry that i never put anything comprehensible in my descriptions i just don't like doing it <3


End file.
